As I enter well into my third month of being home alone with three small children, I think I'm doing all right. My home is never truly clean and I still have fits of the sullens (and the occasional rage caused by pure frustration). But I'm coping, and coping well.
In the end, I'm grateful for this experience of solo parenting, because I have a small insight into the life of a single parent. I now understand the exhaustion, the boredom, and the feeling of being completely overwhlemed. But I also understand I am NOT a single parent.
Single parents are alone, usually, for the duration of the child-raising experience. They get no break today and they know they will not get a break until their youngest child is about 18 years old. There is no end date, no spouse on the phone with whom to vent or share milestones. No husband or wife saying, "I wish I was there. You're doing a great job. I love you."
I know this will end soon. I know The Hubby can't wait to get his hands on our rugrats. I know my work is appreciated by another adult. I am blessed and I know it.
My deepest admiration for all the single parents out there. You're doing a great job.
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